Fragments of Eastern Wonderland
by Mimic Teruyo
Summary: Scraps and short one-shots about Gensoukyou and its residents.
1. Ash and Dust

In a barren land at the end of the world lay a lone person, a phoenix in human form. How long she had lain there, she neither knew nor cared. Not even the unexpected sound of footsteps was enough to rouse her.

"It 's been a while, Enma, " she mumbled as the footsteps stopped right next to her.

"Indeed," Eiki responded softly, still outside Mokou's sphere of vision. "How are you? "

"The same as always. The world has come to an end and everyone else is dead. So," she plucked out a strand of her hair, gleaming silver in the moonlight and played with it, "I'm killing time. One second at a time." She turned her head to see Eiki. "You're the only one left. Are you permanently immortal too?"

"No, I am not. One day, I too will die and crumble to dust."

Mokou snorted. "That's just perfect. Ash and dust, those are the only things left anyway. So, one day you will be gone, and then it's just me."

She lifted her arm from the ground and towards the sky. The full moon looked impossibly huge that night.

"Me and her." She closed her fist as if trying to grasp the moon in her palm.

"I wish I could free you from your fate and give you the judgement you deserve." There was genuine pity in Eiki's voice, and if Mokou hadn't been so far beyond caring, she might have been touched. "I can tell you one thing, however." Eiki's eyes were luminous as she looked down at Mokou. "One day, you will reach your moon."


	2. Forgotten Mound of Wind and Flowers

There was something blue above me. The sky, or the sea? The tree branches I also saw indicated the former, but it didn't heed well to make such assumptions. For all I knew, I was far beneath the crust of earth, or stuck in the dimension of dreams, and what I saw was merely a flight of fancy.

Who was I? Where had I been? The answers were within me, so near I could almost touch them, but they evaded me, and I lacked the strength to grasp them. It didn't matter. An exhaustion beyond exhaustion kept pushing my eyelids shut, trying to force me back into hibernation. A part of me wanted to obey, embrace the rest and freedom of all responsibility.

Slowly, I kept pushing towards my memories. The salient parts of my predicament still escaped me, but the core within reminded me of my emotions from when I had last been awake: the fear, an overpowering presence suffocating my breath and drowning my very being, and finally, bitter relief at a salvation that was only one degree removed from oblivion.

Moving the only muscles I could, I furrowed my brow. I wanted to remember all, no matter how painful, but I didn't have the strength.

I had never had the strength.

As I was strove forward without making headway, I grew more aware of my surroundings. It was indeed the sky above me, a normal, blue sky. I was lying on a soft patch of thick moss, surrounded by trees. The air was thick and heavy, and the light filtering through the leaves was dim, attesting to the forest's age. The only I heard was distant birdsong, and even if I had had the strength to move, perhaps I would have chosen to lie there, in the bed of moss the forest had chosen to provide for me, and be gently swayed to sleep by the faint rays of the sun.

There was a sudden sound. Someone had stepped on twig. I attempted to turn my head, but couldn't move. Fortunately, the person walked into my sphere of vision, blocking the sun with her parasol.

"You must return to sleep," said Yukari Yakumo.

My tongue was thick in my mouth, and speaking was a struggle. However, after some difficulties, I managed to speak, in a tiny voice, but still "I know."

"You shouldn't be here in the first place."

"I know." It wasn't my fault I was back in Gensoukyou; after all, I had no inkling why I was awake in the first place. However, I didn't want to expend any energy explaining the fact to Yukari when I didn't know how much strength I had left. After all, it didn't matter.

I closed my eyes. "Before you take me back, there's something I must ask of you."

Yukari made no response, but as she didn't instantly whisk me away, I assumed she would hear me out.

I opened my eyes, a silent prayer in them. "Please remember me."

Yukari smiled, but the smile didn't extend to her eyes. "I will."

"Thank you." With those words, I felt the rest of my strength sapped away, and I closed my eyes for the final time. It was fine, now. Even if I was asleep, even if I should never wake up again, as long as one person remembered me, it would mean I existed.

I exist. I'm real. Even if I didn't have the strength to overcome what had resigned me to Limbo, as long as one soul remembers that I once lived, I _am_.

As slumber claimed me, I heard one last thing.

"Sleep well," Yukari whispered, "Rin Satsuki."


	3. Prayers at the Broken Shrine

"Here we are!" Marisa chirped and happily jumped over the last few steps to the shrine, holding her purple hat in one hand, and an assortment of wild flowers in the other. Mokutou followed, wings close to her body and looking around gingery, uncomfortable out in the open during daytime. It didn't help hat she hadn't informed Lady Mima of their excursion to Gensoukyou, and as Lady Mima had told them that tonight would be the night her newest, still secret plan would be unfurled, it was possible she would return to Reimaden early and notice that Mokutou and Marisa were absent without leave.

Still, there was no point fretting now. What was done was done. It was the anniversary of Marisa's mother's death, after all, and she had insisted of paying her respects. How could Mokutou possibly have refused her when she looked up to her with a soft smile and pleading eyes and asked to go outside?

So, here they were. As Mokutou knew little of Gensoukyou and its locations, she had taken Marisa to the only religious establishment she knew there, the Hakurei shrine.

Or at least, she had taken her where the Hakurei Shrine had very recently existed. Mokutou froze into place as she stared at the pile of rabble and splintered wood that stood where the shrine had been. The young shrine maiden Mima had occasionally mentioned was nowhere to be seen, as was no other living soul. Only a few solitary ghosts bopped around, lolling their tongues

Marisa paid little heed to her surroundings and rushed straight over to what had once been the porch of the shrine. She dived into the rabble, and soon retrieved the donation box, dragging it out in the open.

"I don't have any money or incense, but..." She closed her eyes and muttered a quick spell. The lock on the donation box popped open and fell on the ground, and without further ado Marisa opened the lid and placed her flowers inside the box, giggling.

Then, her expression grew sombre, and she put her hands together. Mokutou walked to her side and stood on guard as the little witch prayed. Who she prayed to, Mokutou didn't know, but the seriousness on Marisa's countenance attested to the sincerity of her feelings.

After several, she stood up and beamed up at Mokutou. "Okay, all done!"

Mokutou offered her hand. "We shall return to Reimaden, then."

Marisa knitted her brow. "Already? But we just got here. I want to know what happened here!" She gestured at the ruins of the shrine.

"All in good time. Lady Mima has some plans for tonight, remember?"

"Oh, right!" Marisa began to giggle again. "Can we go back to the flower fields first? I wanted to pick up the huge sunflower, but it was too big to be a donation."

"Very well. Straight home after that, however."

"Fine. What's for lunch?"

"Vegetable curry."

"Great!" Marisa hugged Mokutou's arm. "I can't wait for Lady Mima to be back! I bet tonight's going to be so much fun!"

Mokutou stroked Marisa's head. "I hope so, child. I hope so."


End file.
